


Just Abaft the Haze of Cruelty

by survivorcharm



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Amami is still adventuring, Apocalypse, Fluff, I wasn't even sure if i wanted them to be official, It's a tad bit platonic??, M/M, Saihara is a writer now, Saimami, Slight violence in a flashback, They are but the wording makes it seem weird, They're in love though dw, amasai, apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:13:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivorcharm/pseuds/survivorcharm
Summary: Despite the situation they were in, he still found meaning in his words.For some unknown reason, the former detective idly gazed at the sheet that bled with black ink. His eyes drifted across it as he analyzed a few lines of dialogue, descriptions, and details. Usually, he'd feel content with the ideas he'd draw onto the notebook. Smile at it, even. He'd find sanctuary in the words and plot, and feel satisfactory shiver through his bones.Though, today, as he looked up at the misty orange sky, with a blazing sun setting in the distance, he realized something.He, for some reason, felt nothing but debility.Saihara and Amami view the horizon and chat.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Just Abaft the Haze of Cruelty

**Author's Note:**

> i had a burst of inspiration for an amasai apocalypse au so..!

The wind flew past two survivors, who sat atop a balcony. They were seated in two separate chairs, which faced the outskirts of the abandoned city. Breezy winds were the only source of sound, with the addictions of shifting metal from their guns and equipment. 

The one with navy hair had been focused on a notebook in his lap. His pen danced along the pages, filling up every line, with occasional spaces for paragraphs. His faded golden eyes never glanced away, and only continued to scratch down words with meaning. 

Despite the situation they were in, he still found meaning in his words.

He brought the damaged pen to his lips, and bit on it as he thought. A habit that formed from way before. He became accustomed to writing, which of course, came with the price of anxious movements when in his mind. Though, he really shouldn't be putting the pen anywhere near his mouth. He did find it on the ground, in a dirty and dusty gas station, after all. Unfortunately, it was the only recent material he could use for writing. All his previous art items had been lost while running from zombies, or had run dry. He hadn't been to a store in a while, either. So this was the best he had. 

Still, the writer made use of it. His hand swayed along the paper, somehow not cramping from overworking. He attempted to be careful, just in case the pen accidentally decided to weaken. The boy couldn't afford losing this single pen. If broken, who knows when he'd be able to find another. He'd go insane from not twirling his fingers around the ink, and not having the ability to splash his thoughts on paper. This was his only true way of keeping himself grounded these days. 

He used to have another way. Before everything, at least. The bluenette would lose himself in his work, and become distracted from the outside world. The isolation would be comforting, and the feeling of achievement when he solved cases was soothing. The way he'd envelop his mind into thinking, stories, and backgrounds was an escape. An escapism from the disasters taking place around them, such as the political destructions and dangerous scientific discoveries. 

However, the wonders didn't live forever.

Now, here he was, staring at a now filled paper with gibberish littered all over it. Possibly useless words, if he was considering sharing it. He knew there wouldn't be anyone interested in it, for there wasn't anyone else. Yet, he still managed to perform perfection onto the lines, with very few incorrect spellings and accidental smudges. 

For some unknown reason, the former detective idly gazed at the sheet that bled with black ink. His eyes drifted across it as he analyzed a few lines of dialogue, descriptions, and details. Usually, he'd feel content with the ideas he'd draw onto the notebook. Smile at it, even. He'd find sanctuary in the words and plot, and feel satisfactory shiver through his bones. 

Though, today, as he looked up at the misty orange sky, with a blazing sun setting in the distance, he realized something. 

He, for some reason, felt nothing but debility.

His pale arm sunk onto the armchair, and became limp. The fingers that held onto the pen still had a grip, but it soon faltered, yet not enough to release the pen onto the concrete floor. His body slumped, and he relaxed into the black jacket he wore. The backrest of the chair hit against him, and felt pleasent, despite it being made out of cold steel. Then, he fluttered his eyes close, with the sun rays burning into him.

The boy was exhausted, both mentally and physically. 

While staring down at the streets, searching for any signs of zombies or possible people, the partner next to the navy haired one noticed his sudden behavior. He shifted his head towards the other, and sent a curious look. He ruffled his green and slightly curly hair for a moment, before speaking.

"You tired?" He asked with a chuckle. His nature was gentle; a complete opposite to the horrors from the outside world. The aura that oozed off him was... collective, yet not enough to make him seem cold or stern.

Amami Rantaro, was his name. He used to be deemed as the Ultimate Adventure. Calm, friendly, but also protective and brotherly to his friend, Saihara Shuichi, the former Ultimate Detective.

He was never always like this, though. 

When the two first encountered one another, it was quite harsh. In fact, it was the smaller one, Saihara, who initiated hostility. No one could blame him, really. It was the start of the apocalypse, after all. He was 16 at the time, alone, with no experience in survival or defense. It wasn't illogical of him to pull out his gun, stand his ground, and aim it at the person with green hair, who was scavenging for food at the location he'd been camping at.

Regrettably, while asking the intruder questions, he had stumbled a little too close, and was caught off guard by Amami tripping him and holding him down. His demeanor at the time was threatening and frightening— an opposite of the true him inside. Saihara wouldn't dare to forget how petrified he was when the tables flipped, and he had become the endangered one.

  
  


_ "GAH!" _

_ A sudden kick had caused the boy to stumble, and trip over his feet. He fell to his knees, shaking, and dropped his pistol from the impact. With no time to react, a hand had forcefully shoved him down onto the cold gas station floor, and pressure was applied to his hands and back. He could no longer move under the grip he was captured in.  _

_ "LET GO OF M-" Saihara was cut off by a hand muffling him, and he was shushed at. _

_ "Be quiet, you'll cause attention." The mysterious one sighed, and held onto the other, making sure he wasn't able to move and attack. "Sorry I have to do this. But it's for survival, after all." _

_ Confused, the bluenette glanced behind him at the boy. His eyes widened as he saw the intruder raised up a gun, and glare down at him. He began to squirm in terror, kicking his feet and wiggling. Saihara even attempted to bite the boy's hand, but it wasn't efficient, since his hand was gloved. His efforts appeared to be useless. _

_ Was this it? _

_ Was this the end?  _

_ Was this person about to kill him for survival? _

_ Sadly, his thoughts and worries were cut off as pain struck at the back of his head. Then, he was met with coldness against his cheek, and fell silent. _

_ The next time he woke up, Saihara was met with the mystery teen standing in front of him, in a room, with his hands tied behind his back and a chair. He could feel a swelling bruise on his head that ached. Though, his focus was more on the fact that he was currently bound and defenseless.  _

_ With that, the standing one stepped forward with a gun in hand. _

_ "Now, who are you?" _

  
  
  


A strange greeting, indeed. 

It's funny, how the two of them bonded, and were now considered partners. Regardless of how their first encounter went, they managed to work together in the end and form a trust. It took a few months to become secure, yes, but the progress was still unexpected. Saihara had predicted he'd become some sort of pet, or hostage. He was mistaken when Amami finally showed reassurance once he was finished interrogating him. The feeling of relief wash over him when the greenette handed him back his items was almost comical, but eased him. While they weren't fully friendly at the time, everything set itself into place as they ventured through cities and fields. 

Now, here they sat, on a balcony, keeping each other company.

Saihara hummed as a response to the adventure's question, despite the seconds that had past with no answer.

Amami chuckled again and nodded, "I thought so. You stopped writing, so I assumed your hand was cramping. But you look tuckered out." 

He glimpsed back onto the horizon, where the sun was beginning to escort down from their visions. He rested his arm against the armchair, and placed his chin onto his palm as he looked out. "Something bothering you?" 

The boy was tempted to spit out a snarky remark referring to the situation of the entire world. Instead, he gulped, and threw the thought out. His brain was too exhausted, and cracking jokes wouldn't help the odd sensations flowing through his body. He simply shook his head and sighed as he repositioned himself in his seat, now sitting straight up.

"..I don't know," he spoke softly as thoughts began to twirl in his head. Why was he so drained? They didn't do anything particularly active that day, nor did they plan out anything important. Their day was wasted on regaining their health and sleep, since the other day the two had to escort themselves from one city to another, which was 15 miles apart. At the moment, the duo found themselves cherishing their moments of survival with each other. They spent their time chatting, playing board games that they brought along, and simply regenerating. Still, it had been three days since the transport. Why was he feeling drowsy and unmotivated?

"I don't think anything is bothering me. I..."

Saihara peeked at his notebook once more, before reverting his gaze at the sky. "I feel worn out, I guess."

Amami nodded in acknowledgment. He smiled slightly, but it seemed dejected. "Understandable, really. You do write in that notebook of yours every chance you get." His eyes peered at the writer again, "it's only natural for you to get tired sometimes."

He was right. The bluenette did scribble onto his notebook about everyday, capturing both events from the day or creating fictional fantasies. It was a routine for him, for both distractions and future references. For the future, he wasn't sure what for. Even without a realistic reason, he craved the feeling of achievement when a page became complete, or when a draft had been concluded. The consequence of being productive through his writing was lack of energy, which is what was occurring at the moment.

They both sat in silence for a moment, and watched the sunset deepen. A denim blue had began creeping along the sky, and if the world was feeling lucky, stars would soon glimmer. It was doubtful, since stars rarely shine in urban areas, but still a possibility.

"Hey," the taller one's deep voice rang out of the blue. It caught the attention of his partner, who glanced back at him. "..Do you think things will ever get back to normal?" He shuffled around his seat, and crossed one of his legs over the other. "Society wise, I mean."

Saihara had never seen Amami as a prospective person. He normally saw him focus on the present, and rarely dwell on the future. So, the question came across as a bit alarming. His eyes slightly widened in shock, which didn't go unnoticed.

Raising his hand up, the adventurer laughed and waved his hand. "Sorry, was that too sudden? I didn't mean to startle you like that."

The former detective shook his head, "no, it's fine. I just didn't expect you to...uhm, well, think about the future...?"

He immediately started to fiddle with the pen he had, and stumbled over his words. "Not that you wouldn't think smart about that, no. I mean— gah, I meant just, our future wise. We normally only think about our survival, so..."

Amami giggled, and reached out to ruffle Saihara'a hair. "Don't worry about it, it's fine. I get it. Besides, it was a random question."

The navy haired boy huffed, feeling a bit annoyed by the hand messing with his hair. The feeling didn't last long, as the irritation vanished as he thought. 

The future. 

He never began to imagine meeting up with more people, if there were any left. Nevertheless, even consider the beginning of a new human society. While it was still plausible that there were other trusting people, they could never guarantee it. Looters could be still traveling around, and only want to fight for themselves. Fixing up a population and community would be beyond an expectation. Would it ever work?

Despite the doubt, he caught an interest in the idea. The thought of people helping one another out, and begin to blossom a hope would be incredible. Seeing a society form, rescue people from harm, and fight back the virus that caused this catastrophe almost sounded like a fairytale. 

Yet, he wasn't opposed to it. For a second, he began to hope that such a thing was out there. That people found refuge, and assist one another. It brought a tiny grin to his face. Though, his lips wavered, and dropped back into a poker face once he'd processed the theory.

The possibility is farfetched. There's many reasons why it couldn't work, such as greed for supplies, fear of dying, and others that he'd previously listed. Survivors may also put their guard up, and be hesitant to trust easily.

With that, Saihara sighed. 

"I wouldn't be opposed to it. It would be great to see a community build and restore hope. Maybe humanity could possibly survive.." 

He averted his gaze to the floor, and began tapping his feet. An odd feeling began sinking into his stomach. He couldn't figure out why, but dread seeped through his body from thinking. His foot increased in speed, showing that he was now anxious from pondering on the subject.

A hand was lightly placed onto Saihara's shoulder, causing him to jump. He swiftly turned his head, only to be met with emerald eyes and a sympathetic smile looking towards him.

Amami caressed his partner's shoulder, attempting to calm him down. Soon, Saihara's movements faltered, and his eyes drooped from the comforting gesture. Oh, the cons of being touch starved.. His body is easily influenced by each action the other did.

He leaned onto Amami's hand, relishing the warmth he felt even with his black jacket being in the way. The greenette chuckled, and soon moved his hand to interlock their fingers that were currently sheltered by black winter gloves. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you stress over it. It was a random thought anyways.. a bit farfetched, yeah?"

The adventurer seemed to have stolen the detective's exact thoughts. It truly didn't seem improbable, but the thought was heartening. Having some other company, and not fear every other human being they saw, would be amusing. 

In that case, they could have an actual home. 

"It would be nice," Saihara wanted to comment more, but decided against it.

Amami let his thumb rub against the other's knuckles, and then glimpsed back at the horizon. "Yeah, it would."

There was another pause in the conversation. It was quite difficult to keep a chat completely flowing, since everything seemed overwhelming and difficult to put into words. Amami was normally the one to shatter silence, and help both of them stay grounded in reality. 

Shortly after they met, he became aware of Saihara's anxious and shut in nature, and strived to assist him in becoming open to him. He'd need to, if they wanted to communicate together. While he still struggles with speaking, it became slightly easier, and he adjusted to the environment between them.

"Hey, maybe if there is something like that out there.." Amami pattered his fingers on Saihara's hand, and tightened their grip, "you can finally share your stories you've written. I know it must be boring to just let me read them. And, I bet people would enjoy them. Have a better understanding of them than me, at least."

"Sharing my stories?" Saihara glanced at him confused.

"Yeah! I'm sure people would want entertainment. Especially the children, if there are any, y'know? Helping out with activities would be nice. Hell, maybe there could be a way for you to make an actual book."

The writer stared, almost taken off guard from the thought. "...Publishing a book," he muttered to himself. Having something to do with his writing would be splendid. The past two years of work may become useful to others, if this was possible. He could finally have a use to them, after all these troubling days.

His eyes laid onto the page, written with stained black ink. As he scanned through the short story, a smile spread across his face. The concept of children reading his books, and finding some sort of joy in reaching the endings and new beginnings was magical. He could create a whole imagination for others to block out the horrors of the world, just like he had been doing through his writing.

He would find comfort in that.

Saihara's grin didn't disappear, and instead, he looked back at the fading sunlight with a bright expression. A burst of energy had drove through his blood, causing him to wiggle his finger in excitement. 

"..I would like that."

Amami gazed down at him and grinned. Seeing the bluenette with faint happiness caused a warm feeling to swell in his belly and ache. He knew it was a positive response, somehow. The feeling felt heavenly and lovely. Though, he swallowed the feeling down, and contained himself from becoming flustered. 

The duo found themselves watching the sky as the beaming sun shrunken and sunk away. Soon, it became night. The moon wasn't visible from their view of the balcony, but both were aware the rock had risen into the air.

The wind became chilly, and the temperature was decreasing. As the world was consumed by darkness, Amami sighed, grabbed onto his weapon, and brought himself to stand up. He still held onto Saihara's hand, as if offering him to stand.

"Let's head back inside and eat, yeah? I'll keep watch later tonight."

Saihara peered at him through the dim lighting. He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it. He knew the other wouldn't fight over who would take the first shift. The taller one volunteered everytime, and rarely did he ever want to rest instead of Saihara. If he was resilient to Amami's wish for him to relax, he'd normally find a way to sneak out on guard before him. So, the outcome wasn't debatable.

The writer gripped onto his notebook and pen, and rised up from the metal seat. He smiled up at his partner, who reciprocated the gesture. He squeezed their hands together once more, before releasing them. He adjusted the gun that was strapped against his chest, and made sure it was comfortable on him. 

After checking if he had everything on him, Saihara glanced back at Amami. He was still lovingly gazing at him with a soft smile, and stuck out his hand once more. The smaller one blushed slightly, but held his hand again.Swaying their hands a bit, Amami laughed, and then began walking towards the glass doors of their shared hotel room. 

With one final glance, Saihara's eyes found themselves admiring the sky. 

Stars had filled the darkness. They scattered around, patching up empty spaces above the clouds. Some even appeared to create certain constellations, but he wasn't aware of the exact names. His eyes widened at the sight, and another smile was brought onto his face.

There was a hopeful emotion that arose within him. 

Even in the nearing end, the sky managed to shine. As if nothing was occurring, and it was an average day for stargazing. The world seemed to be lucky and daring today after all. It was as if today was a sign for them. Not just Saihara and Amami individually, but possibly others, if there's survivors.

Despite the odds and chances of a happy ending, he suddenly felt a spark inside him. A determination, mixed with gleaming positivity. The feeling had been unfamiliar, yet somehow, not new.

Turning around, he saw Amami stepping back into the building, with his boots clacking against the wooden floorboards that surrounded the living room inside. He held the door open, waiting for the one still standing in the cold to enter. After a moment of staring, Saihara stepped foward, and walked into the slightly warmer, yet still chilly environment.

The greenette shut the door behind him, and locked it by flipping a handle. He then strolled towards the fairly nice but dusty kitchen, which had flickering lights. He began humming softly, indicating he was in a cheery mood. Grinning, the writer followed, feeling slightly chirpy himself. 

As they both settled and chatted in the kitchen, gathering out food from their bags while doing so, Saihara paused. He looked down at his hands, that had grabbed two packets of gummies and one pay day candy bar. His head was swarmed with a repeated scene from earlier.

_ "Hey, maybe if there is something like that out there... you can finally share your stories you've written. I know it must be boring to just let me read them. And, I bet people would enjoy them. Have a better understanding of them than me, at least." _

"Saihara-kun?" The same deep and soothing voice called out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked at the one who spoke, and saw him beginning to head towards the bedroom they shared before halting. "You okay?"

He must've been staring into nothing for a while if Amami had started to grow concerned. Shaking his head, Saihara nodded. "Sorry, I'll be there in a second.."

The navy haired one zipped his backpack up after finishing grabbing a water bottle and snacks. He shoved some items into his jacket's pockets, and swung the bag over his shoulder. He then headed towards the greenette, who smiled before he started traveling into the abandoned bedroom again. 

Despite Saihara seeming back in reality, his head still spun in anticipation. For what, exactly, he wasn't sure of. Though, one thing was clear to him now.

After the years of running in distress, and dreading the day he may meet his dismay, he finally had a feeling of persistence. For just a slim moment, the once known loner had something to ponder about, that didn't involve his current survival or physical condition.

Just abaft the haze of cruelty, Saihara glanced ahead.

For once, Saihara had the slightest hope of an unforseen future.

**Author's Note:**

> if there's any mistakes, please inform me. i started this at midnight and finished today, so i wouldn't be surprised if something is messed up.
> 
> criticism is welcomed!
> 
> thank you for reading 💙💚


End file.
